


again-walker

by eymelee



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, LET! REVENANT! BE! SOFT! IN! 2733!, Other, sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eymelee/pseuds/eymelee
Summary: They don’t see the drill tower, their companion, or their rifle dropped at their feet. They instead watch their two dearest people run from the lethal flash freeze and lose the race.The Epicenter's hanging ice spikes collapse in an odd explosion. Bloodhound watches as another person dear to them succumbs.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Revenant (Apex Legends)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	again-walker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExasperantMadman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExasperantMadman/gifts).



> Written for the Revhound weekly challenge I do with [ExasperantMadman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExasperantMadman). Check out their angsty works too!

“Peacekeeper here,” Bloodhound says, pinging the matching ammo as well. The tracker knows that their companion prefers shotguns for their high-damage output in close combat. They want to equip him with the best gear before engaging in a fight, not only because it will increase their chances of victory but also because they are concerned with Revenant’s safety. 

When there’s no quip from the simulacrum, Blóð turns to regard the other, who is uncharacteristically motionless in front of an opened supply bin. An assortment of grenades and arc stars litter the inside, together with a discarded high-level body shield.

“Have you heard my quips, _garpr_ [1]?” the tracker slides closer.

Their presence has this staggering effect on Revenant. Since he has mumbled out a partial confession of his care for the tracker a few nights ago - and Bloodhound assured him that the feeling was mutual - the simulacrum has been especially observant of them. 

Out of the games, casual though hesitant touching has been occurring with increased frequency: a pat on their shoulder, a metallic hand on their lower back, a heavy head dropped in their lap. Bloodhound has been relishing in these rare moments, the Allfather at last offering them a chance to be someone’s beloved, as well as devoting themselves to another.

It has been different during the bloody matches. Revenant has confirmed that for keeping up appearances, he would be keeping his distance, interacting with Bloodhound only when necessary. The tracker is not so certain of that. The fact that their partner has been pushing all the high-level loot he came across in their hands has been proving otherwise. 

“Take that blue shield,” Revenant states, turning to grab his much-praised shotgun.

Blóð crosses their hands, head tilted to the side, a gesture which has his partner stop dead in his tracks. These pauses are what delights Bloodhound deeply. They know that Revenant is reading into each and single one of their cues, to the extent that he freezes on the spot trying to decode their meaning, which in turn pleases the tracker greatly; they practically preen under the recent attention, overemphasizing every movement.

“I suppose it’s better for you to equip that,” Bloodhound counters, pointing at the shield. “I am able to support you with this Triple Take from afar, thus I am not in need of so much armor. A level one shield will suffice.”

Their simulacrum partner narrows his eyes, followed by a shrug. His lanky metal arms reach and don the garment whilst an explosion sounds from afar. Bloodhound proceeds to scale a rocky formation to the top, using their extended visor to scout ahead. They sense Revenant nest himself beside them in a much shorter time than it took the tracker to climb.

Firing guns can be seen from the Epicenter, the sparks gleaming in the mirroring ice structures. 

“I smell fear. Going to check it out,” Revenant says, jumping off the rocks and using his long robotic legs to his advantage. 

Bloodhound pursues, albeit slower, each step feeling like lead. There’s a certain reluctance about approaching the frozen central tower which they cannot shake off. Either due to the death of their _foreldrar_ [2] or the traumatic event they had to go through while slaying the Goliath - which ended up wrecking their lungs - Blóð cannot tell.

“Pick up the pace, Hound,” Revenant’s shouts reverberate from the communication device, their daydreaming not going unnoticed. “Going in, cover me!” 

The tracker slides down the valley, frags flying from their hand, some striking true. They scope in with their sniper rifle to provide some fire but various other grenades are being thrown. Revenant is being pushed further into the huge icicles, which he ascends with ease, getting some sort of cover. The hunter needs better vision to clear out opponents, so their eyes focus behind the goggles, a bestial urge overcoming them.

“I am Blóðhundur,” they roar as the rifle is picked back up, a well-aimed headshot downing a target instantaneously. A glance over the snowy slopes reveals another team healing next to a boulder. With a smirk, both of them are taken out in quick succession. 

“Yeah, you are,” Revenant chuckles through the comm piece in their ear, his shotgun firing at nearer people. 

The highlight of opponents anchors Blóð, helping them reveal all that is to be hunted as well as all that is to be averted. Their eyes land on an odd weapon placed on a horizontal ice spike. Scoping in further, the tracker identifies it as some sort of robotic device, similar to a loot tick. They frown, pondering on its presence in World’s Edge. 

“Revenant, I see an unusual tick right above you, on the ice. Be cautious while I determine what it is exactly,” the hunter communicates as the simulacrum pauses his looting and looks up. “It’s different in shape from the ones in King’s Canyon. Its head is such of a balloon’s, with a unique pattern.”

“Huh, shoot it down and let's see what it drops,” their partner replies.

Bloodhound scoffs, shaking their head, a touch of prudence clearly needed in this relationship - even if they are the one who has to enforce it. Taking a deep breath, the tracker pinpoints the location of another sniper who falters as well at the sight of the strange tick. They are about to warn Revenant to evacuate the area when a shot is fired.

It strikes the tick dead-on, which provokes a huge explosion. 

A lighting-like fissure splits the large ice spike from its base, the collapse imminent. They feel the desperate need to shout out another warning to Revenant, but the simulacrum is already on its feet, rapidly seeking an escape route. All happens too quickly.

The icicle drops in huge chunks together with deafening sounds as it hits the area around the tower. The land shakes and a flurry of snow begins rolling off the hills, towards the valley. Everything is swallowed up by white as Bloodhound can barely make out Revenant’s red figure running towards them. 

It’s their subconscious that orders the tracker to freeze, in an already frigid place.

They don’t see the drill tower, their companion, or their rifle dropped at their feet. They instead watch their two dearest people run from the lethal flash freeze and lose the race. The sound they utter is animalistic, after which their legs weaken. 

The air Bloodhound inhales is chilly, because of course, it is. Their hand reaches and gingerly feels along the mask that a long time ago allowed him to live - and stay alive all the years after. Strangely, they pull out their leather gloves and abandon them in the snow. With a trembling hand, they reach for the cold metal of the Triple Take and scope in to survey the area. 

With the snow and ice settled, the few teams in the vicinity help each other to reach high ground, rivalry left behind. Blóð watches as Hyeon’s drone flies overhead, possibly searching for Legends needing assistance. They signal it over and the drone turns towards where the tracker has been sniping from. Not a couple minutes later, static fills his comm, then Crypto’s voice patches through. 

“Bloodhound, are you alright?” the hacker asks, his duo’s booming voice echoing from the background, giving instructions. 

“I am unhurt, but Revenant got caught in the snowslide, as far as I could see,” they try to communicate calmly, but their voice is filled with tremors. “Allfather give me sight.”

“Understood, I’ll let Makoa know and we will commence a search immediately.” 

The hunter won’t be passive in this find-and-rescue mission, as they rise on wobbly feet, the tips of their fingers already turning red due to the exposure. Despite their wear of appropriate boots, their steps are calculated and careful, as fresh snow is always slippery. The comm crackles to life once again, and Bloodhound awaits good news. 

Instead, a few muffled grunts and constant shuffling is heard, as if one’s buried deep under a blanket of snow. Before the tracker even has the chance to ask, Revenant’s robotic voice responds. 

“Back from the shadows,” are the only words Blóð hears, followed by the familiar noise that accompanies the ending of the Death Totem’s borrowed time. 

The tracker doesn’t need a scope because Revenant’s tall, crimson form is easy to make out in a sea of white. He appears disoriented, probably due to the change in terrain. His eyes scan everything around, until, from far away, they land upon Bloodhound. The tracker raises a hand and waves frantically, conveying that they are out of harm’s way.

It’s much later, after several intervention teams arrive, that they are reunited with the simulacrum. The participating Legends are asked to remain on the premises, probably for questioning, but Blóð puts as much distance as they can from the accident’s location. They perch themselves on a building in Fragment West, watching people carry out their jobs from afar. Bloodhound leaves his GPS turned on, and soon enough a robotic footfall resounds from the staircase.

Bloodhound doesn’t know when they moved, but they welcome the comforting cold metal that encases Revenant, snuggled as they are in the simulacrum’s arms. They are not even sure if their companion has even flinched or said anything, due to the accumulated anxiety blocking out everything. 

“You have come back to me, _Afturganga_ [3],” Bloodhound breathes out, nuzzling their forehead in their partner’s neck. 

Revenant eventually recovers from his halt, circling his arms around Blóð, picking them up without breaking the contact. He’s silent, savoring the moment as well. A gust of icy wind blows over the roof of the building, but the pair have already taken shelter inside the staircase. 

Sitting in Revenant’s lap, the tracker reluctantly pulls back. Glowy eyes follow their shift, arms not letting go of their waist. Bloodhound reaches for the other’s face, brushing their bare fingers on the metal, then patting down the bandana covering the simulacrum’s head. The latter notices the lack of gloves as he reaches to grab and connect his fingers with his partner’s. 

“You fool, where are your gloves?” Revenant scolds them. “Damn, you’re gonna get yourself frostbite.” He attempts to warm Blóð’s palms between his, a considerate effort if not for the lack of the simulacrum’s body heat.

Revenant seems to realize how in vain his actions are and sheepishly avoids his partner’s gaze, wrapping his arms around the other. The tracker lets a chuckle escape them together with all their concerns, and leans forward into one more embrace. 

The simulacrum is cold, sure, but it’s the warmest Bloodhound has been in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. A bold, dauntless man; hero, champion Back
> 
> 2\. parents Back
> 
> 3\. Again-walker, Revenant Back


End file.
